Christmas in July
by JenniferLupin
Summary: Early in his leaping experience, Sam experiences a sudden bout of homesickness. Al comes round with an explanation and a little bit of help.


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit from this fic!

A/N: This was written for Livejournal's fanfic100 community. The challenge was "christmas".

Sam shifted uncomfortably as he felt four or five infuriating beads of sweat trailing down his back, right along the curve of his spine. It must be over a hundred degrees out here, he thought with a touch of melancholy. He couldn't think of the last time he'd been so miserable during a leap. It crossed his mind that there might very well have been a time when he was, but thanks to his swiss-cheesed brain, he honestly couldn't think of one.

"There's nothing like living in the moment," he murmured to himself. "Not that I have much choice..." He was alone, so there wasn't anyone there to hear his rather pathetic words. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he disliked pity. But on the other hand, he truly felt lonely...and even more homesick than usual.

He shifted yet again and crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe if he yelled out his name, Al would show up and keep him company until the bus he was waiting on arrived. Of course, he didn't know exactly what he would say if Al did show up, but then they were friends...maybe he wouldn't mind...

"What's with the long face, kid?"

Sam jumped from his seat and whirled around.

"Al! Geez, you scared me to death!"

Al pulled his cigar from his mouth and smiled. "I hope not, Sam. You still got a lot of work to do."

Sam scowled at him and sat back down.

"Don't remind me," he said irritably.

A flash of guilt swept through him. It wasn't Al's fault he was in such a bad mood.

"Anything the matter, Sam?" Al walked through the end of the bench and turned to face his friend. Sam sighed.

"I've been on edge all day, Al. I think it's the heat," he said in the general direction of his knees.

"The heat?" Al gave him a knowing look. "Are you sure?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe." He paused. "Maybe not. I've been feeling homesick, I guess. Or at least homesick for what I can remember of home." They were bitter words, but Sam felt slightly better for finally having said them aloud to someone, especially someone who knew what he was going through.

"I don't think it's the heat, Sam," Al replied. Sam looked up to see an almost wistful look on the observer's face.

"What?"

Al hesitated just slightly before pulling something out of his pocket.

"Merry Christmas, Sam."

Sam stared at the dark square Al held up for him to see. It looked like a photograph.

"Christmas? Al, it's the middle of summer."

Al shook his head, sadly. "Not in 1995, it's not. It's Christmas morning."

Sam's heart sank into his stomach. So, that was it. It was Christmas and instead of being in a comfortable home surrounded by family and friends, he was stuck in 1950s Alabama in the sweltering heat, covered in dust and waiting on a bus.

"Oh, I didn't..." he trailed off. If he were home, who would he be with on this day? A wife? A girlfriend? Did he have a close circle of friends or was he a loner? He just didn't know. "Al..." His throat closed off painfully and no more words came.

Al just nodded. "It's ok, buddy. I just thought this might cheer you up." He stepped closer and shook the picture a bit in Sam's direction. "Take a look."

Sam leaned in for a closer look and he couldn't stop the smile that graced his lips or the warmth that spread through his body. It was a picture of himself and Al, arms thrown around each other's shoulders. They stood in a largish, white room. The Accelerator Chamber Sam remembered with a start.

"Of course, you know, I'm not really supposed to show you stuff like this, but I thought, it's Christmas, so screw them, right?"

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. They both looked so happy in the picture, so proud of themselves. Looking at this photo, Sam could vaguely remember the ghost of the feeling-the pride he took in his work and the joy he felt when things began to fall into place. He'd wanted this, wanted to prove his theories, to do good things for the world. Al knew that, felt it too. And he'd reminded Sam of that.

"Thanks," Sam finally managed to say. Al put his cigar back into his mouth and waved a hand through the air.

"Hey, what are friends for?"

Sam grinned. He might not remember all of the people he would have spent Christmas with, but he could remember at least one.

"Merry Christmas, Al."


End file.
